A Puppet, A Pawn, A Speck of Dust
by quiet liban
Summary: He was always just a puppet, a pawn or a speck of dust and they never though that he might want a choice. Just some Neville drabble.


**Title:** A Puppet, A Pawn, A Speck of Dust  
**Author:** quietliban  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** The Harry Potter universe, characters and concepts contained therein are property of JK Rowling and her associated publishers. No copyrigt infringement is intended.  
**Summary:** they never throught i might want a choice.

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**A Puppet, A Pawn, A Speck of Dust**

Neville Longbottom is just a child. He has grubby paws, and scrapes on his knees. He's not a particularly graceful child, nor is he beautiful in any conventional sense of a beautiful child. His large orbs are not a stunning blue, or a deep dark brown. They're plain, and they're a sort of mustard colour. His skin isn't smooth or translucent. He has a rash running up his forearm and a self-inflicted scratch across his nose. The scratch is slowly healing, but the rash is angry and red and he keeps getting scolded by his grandmother for itching it.

_--- They never asked me. They were never going to ask me. They never thought to. They never thought that i might actually think. and why would i. They never thought that i might actually have an opinion on the matter. that i might want a choice.---_

The puppets are moving animatedly, brought to life by the single flick of his grandmother's wand and a terse incantation. Neville wants a wand. He doesn't want to rely on his grandmother's magic.

He's no longer watching the puppets and their practised play. His mustard brown eyes are watching his grandmother pour tea for her friend. Not that she's using her hands. The teapot is hovering from cup to cup. Neville wishes that he could make things hover.

One of the puppets moves fiercely into his face and Neville squeaks. It's as if the puppet knows that he's not paying attention to them. He quickly focuses back to the puppets. The purple dragon moves back into place and the puppets continue with their show. One mustard coloured eye glances into the kitchen again.

_--- i am nothing. insignificant. a puppet. a pawn. a speck of dust.---_

Luna Lovegood stares at him. Neville looks away. Her gaze makes him feel uncomfortable. Neville doesn't like to feel uncomfortable. She doesn't say anything, and when she does, Neville can't make sense of it. He doesn't know what to say when she speaks.

Luna Lovegood stares at him.

_--- She doesn't smile at me. She stares. Her eyes wide, and perpetually curious. i don't like it. i don't like the way She stares . i don't like the way She makes sense in her babbling nonsense. i don't like the way She notices things. the way She notices me. ---_

The coin is cold in his pocket. He always keeps it there. Even though he knows that the DA doesn't exist anymore. It's a heavy weight in his pocket, and makes him feel safe. It reminds him of when he was wanted. He remembers when it used to grow hot in his pocket.

Neville steps through the portrait hole. Ron is sitting at the chess table, playing a game with Dean. There is only one white pawn remaining on the board.

_--- They tell me the Time, the Place and the Plan. They tell me where i have to meet Them. where i'm expected. i go. or i will go. there's nothing else for me. there is only emptiness for me if i don't go. only emptiness. ---_

Neville wipes a speck of dust off her shoulder. He knows that it's pointless now; now that the serpent is dead and lifeless.

Luna is still warm, and Neville's more grateful for that than anything else in the world.

There's no one else in the room. There is only him, Luna and a large dead serpent. Half the roof is fallen in. Neville can see through the rafters. The sky is a bright vibrant blue. This surprises Neville. He has always associated death and destruction with dark night skies, not this clear bright cerulean.

Luna gives a soft moan. Neville rushes over. Her wide eyes are fluttering. He pushes her blonde hair away off her face, and she looks up at him. An unsteady hand brushes against his forehead. Neville winces in pain. Her fingertips come away sticky with blood and Neville can feel tears pricking in his eyes.

"It was for my mother," she whispers.

Neville doesn't understand her any more now, than he did before.

The tears fall freely. Neville couldn't save her. He had tried, and he failed.

She smiles softly at him. Neville's heart sinks. She never smiles at him.

Her name is on his lips before he realises that he's sobbing and shouting at the sky.

_--- i'm the boy in the corner. i'm the boy flat against the wall in the darkness. i'm the boy with blood trickling down his forehead because the roof caved in. i'm the boy whose parents don't recognise him. i'm the boy who screams Her name because She's the only one who ever asked. i'm the boy. but i'm not The Boy. ---_

Neville knows all the medi-witches in this ward by name.

_--- they tell me not to sit here. they say I should go home. but where is home now. where is the place I feel safe. they don't even know where My home is. it's not with them. it never was. I was never safe with them. ---_

Harry sits next to her bed. He can't see her. The brilliant green has been leached from his eyes. He goes without his glasses now. Some say that the eyes are the window to the soul. Harry's soul is empty, and his eyes stare at everything and anything not taking it in.

Neville supposes that Harry did what he had to do, and that he never cared about the payment.

Luna's chest rises, and falls in a steady rhythm but her wide eyes aren't open or curious. Neville's fingers intertwine themselves with hers. Her long fingers are a dead-weight in between his, but he doesn't let go.

He will never let go.

_--- they never asked Me. they never thought that I might want a choice._


End file.
